


If Only She Knew

by ihidemycrazy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bets & Wagers, Doctor Clarke, F/M, Pining, Roommates, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Teacher Bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9354440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihidemycrazy/pseuds/ihidemycrazy
Summary: Bellamy's POV of 'If Only He Knew'For Bellamy, living with Clarke has been... interesting. He's totally in love with her, and now he's gotten into a bet with Octavia over who will say 'I love you' first. Bellamy's doesn't think it'll ever happen, but Octavia knows better.





	

Bellamy groaned at his alarm that blared at him from the nightstand. One arm remained thrown over his eyes while the other reached for the snooze button. He cursed when his fumbling inadvertently knocked the phone off the nightstand and onto the ground.

Rolling out of bed, he scooped up his phone and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms before making his way out to the kitchen. 

Clarke was sitting at the kitchen table, typing furiously on her computer with her lip pulled between her teeth. He had the sudden urge to pull that lip between his own teeth, but quickly turned to the fridge in an attempt to quell the impulse. 

For Bellamy, living with Clarke has been… interesting. They honestly fought less than he had expected, although he does feel a frequent need to stop her overconsumption of Taco Bell. But he really hadn’t expected to be so distracted by her presence. 

Like, he’d always been attracted to Clarke, but his conscious was reasonable enough to squash it for the sake of his sister’s friendship with her. But now, living with Clarke made it harder and harder to ignore that attraction.

The worst part was that he knew it wasn’t just a sex thing. He wanted to hold her hand and buy her flowers and smell her hair.

It was bad, especially because he was pretty confident that she didn’t feel the same way. She always tried to hide a grimace when he attempted to casually touch her hair. Also, she’d been kind of on-edge lately and he didn’t know what to make of that.

Finding the almost-empty orange juice container in the fridge, he pulled it out and began sipping straight out of the carton.

He turned to Clarke, “How’s the writing going?”

“Very well, thanks,” she replied, not even glancing away from the screen.

‘Wow, she’s super invested in whatever she’s working on’ Bellamy thought. 

Out of curiosity, he asked, “Why aren’t you painting? You usually seem to express yourself that way.”

She seemed surprised that he had noticed and pulled away from her screen to explain to him why she was writing. 

Bellamy nodded in response because it made sense, then began looking through the cabinets for something to eat. “Any chance you want some pancakes?”

…

That day at work, Bellamy could not get out of his mind the image of Clarke sitting on the counter while he made pancakes. She glowed with happiness.

He kept tripping over his words as he lectured, but luckily, it was a Friday, so most of the students weren’t paying attention anyway. 

When the bell rang and the students ran from the classroom, Bellamy breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally the weekend.

He got into his car and called Octavia. 

“Hi big brother!” she answered cheerily.

“Hi O, how’re you doing?”

“Bored with Lincoln out of town,” he could hear the pout in her voice. 

“You can come hang out with me and Clarke tonight.”

“And be a third wheel? No thanks, Bell,” she guffawed.

“Stop, O. You know we aren’t together.”

He could almost feel her roll her eyes through the phone. “Only because you’re too much of a chicken to tell her you love her. Because, face it, you know she loves you too.”

“As much as I’d like to believe that, Clarke is ballsy enough to say it if she loved me.”

Octavia laughed, “Doubtful. I bet you tell her you love her way before she says it to you. In fact, I’d put money on it.”

“Octavia, you do remember we’re not dating right? There’s no guarantee either of us will ever say ‘I love you’ to the other.”

“Um, trust me, it’s guaranteed one of you will say it in like the next two weeks. I can feel it building.”

Bellamy laughed, “Okay, if you say you feel it. I’ll bet you fifty bucks that I don’t say I love you to Clarke in the next two weeks or that she says it before I do. You know this is a very easy bet for me to win, right?”

“That’s just what you think, big brother. I’m coming over later, so leave the door unlocked!”

“Okay, I’ll see you later then,” Bellamy said before hanging up the phone.

On the one hand, he appreciated Octavia’s confidence in the inevitability of he and Clarke dating, but thinking about the whole situation can be a little disheartening. He expects to make an easy fifty bucks off his sister for this bet. How hard can it be for him to continue not telling Clarke he loves her?

As Bellamy’s walking up the stairs to his apartment, he realizes how tired he is from this week. Walking in the door, he sees Clarke still writing and softly smiles to himself. But then his nagging inner voice hisses ‘everything you want and can’t have’. 

“What I wouldn’t give for your four day on- four days off ER schedule,” he sighs. 

He works his way over to the couch, craving the casual affection they so often share. 

The rest of their conversation continues lightly and as Bellamy begins to doze next to her on the couch, he mumbles, “You’re kind of the best roommate I’ve ever had. Did you know that?”

Clarke brushes off the kindness as he expected she would, and he drifts to sleep as she pats his chest. 

…

It honestly shouldn’t startle Bellamy awake every time Octavia barges into a room, but it does. Her door slam reverberates through the apartment and Bellamy realizes his head is resting on Clarke’s boob and his legs are wrapped up with hers. 

He jumped up and, to hide his blush from Clarke, turned his attention to Octavia. 

“Don’t you knock?”

Octavia grinned, “Well, I did, but you assholes were asleep so I just let myself in to make sure you hadn’t been murdered. You can thank me later.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes before getting up to hug his sister. Clarke went into the kitchen, and Octavia and Bellamy trailed behind her. 

He heard his sister teasing Clarke about her cooking skills and entered the room saying, “I miss Lincoln. He calmed down your snarkiness to reasonable levels.”

But he quickly removed himself from the room when Octavia responded with an innuendo about Lincoln’s dick.

He went into his room and flopped on his bed. He probably shouldn’t have fallen asleep on Clarke. Bellamy didn’t think she minded much – casual affection was common with them – but still. It’s not safe for him to allow himself that much closeness. He’s also been known to say embarrassing things in his sleep. What if he accidentally said he loved her? Bellamy brought his hands to his face and rubbed his forehead. That would probably be the worst thing to happen yet. Not only would his heart be broken, but he’d lose fifty bucks to Octavia in the process. 

God, what a stupid bet. It hardly even makes sense. It’s not like it has been particularly hard to not tell Clarke he loves her. It’s been hard to live with his whole unrequited love situation, but the not telling Clarke part has probably been the easiest aspect of it. 

But Octavia obviously thinks there’s no chance Clarke loves him, which adds something melancholy to the predicament. Leave it to O to not spare her brother’s feelings. 

Maybe this is her way of encouraging him to get over Clarke? But she’s been so supportive of it in the past.

Bellamy groaned. What’s her endgame in this?

After the ten minutes that it took to make the mac and cheese, he made his way back to the kitchen. “I’m only staying if there’s no more mention of my little sister’s sex life.”

Both Octavia and Clarke laughed, Octavia looking mildly mischievous and Clarke looking happier than he’d seen her in a while. 

Throughout dinner, the pair was oddly jovial, lots of smiling and laughing, and it brought Bellamy’s spirits up. 

After a while, it got late and Clarke sleepily wandered to bed, mumbling good night on her way. 

Octavia stood up, “I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

Bellamy followed, saying, “I’ll walk you out.”

When they reached the door, Octavia turned to him and said, “I didn’t mean to freak you out with this whole bet thing. Honestly, I’m rooting for you two to end up together and it doesn’t matter who says ‘I love you’ first. Except if it’s you, I get fifty bucks.”

He softly smiled, “Thanks, O. It just kind of felt a little bit like you were betting against Clarke having feelings for me, which can be a little depressing.”

“Don’t be silly; Clarke’s totally in love with you. Maybe you should be using this opportunity to nudge her towards actually telling you,” she grinned.

Bellamy harrumphed, “And how am I supposed to do that if I’ve been unsuccessful at it for this long?”

“Jeez, Bellamy, just walk around without a shirt on and do nice things for her. Invade her personal space.”

“I feel like I already kind of do all that,” Bellamy frowned.

“Okay, well I can’t help you anymore because I want to win fifty bucks. I’m sure you’ll figure out something. Bye, big bother, love you.”

“Love you too, O,” Bellamy smiled before closing the door behind her. 

In the morning, Bellamy woke up before Clarke and ambled into the kitchen to read the newspaper. He was purposefully shirtless, even though it was a little chilly. 

Soon after he got settled in at the counter, Clarke came into the kitchen wearing only a t-shirt and underwear, which quickly distracted Bellamy from the news. He tried not to be too obvious as he greeted her and watched her walk across the kitchen. 

When she reached for a bowl on the top shelf, her t-shirt slid up her back, giving Bellamy quiet the view. He choked on his coffee because her silky skin and soft curves were just a little too much visual stimulation this early in the morning. 

She turned toward him at the sound of his coughing, clearly concerned. He waved her off, but she still came over to him. As she rubbed his back, he could feel her breast graze his arm, which did nothing to stop his coughing. 

‘Oh my god, she’s trying to kill me’ he thought to himself as his coughing started to calm down.

In a moment of pure self-preservation, he asked, “Aren’t you, I don’t know, cold?”

Like, he was cold, and he was wearing a lot more clothing than she was. 

She rolled her eyes and explained that she had run out of clean pants. So, in the spirit of doing nice things for her, Bellamy ran into his room to retrieve a pair of sweatpants. The ulterior motive was that he also really enjoyed seeing her wear his clothes; the small possessive part of him jumped for joy whenever she borrowed one of his sweatshirts. 

But as soon as he handed it to her and she asked, “Seriously?” he knew he had made a mistake. 

He just nodded. He had no idea what to say. 

When she said, “Okay, dad,” he cringed. 

She went back to her room before he could say anything, and he watched her now-covered legs as she walked away with mixed emotions. 

Bellamy went to his phone to text Octavia.

Bellamy: I already fucked up the being nice thing.

Octavia: Not surprised.

Octavia: What did you do?

Bellamy: She wasn’t wearing pants so I lent her a pair of sweats. She seemed to think I was protecting her modesty but I honestly couldn’t even think with her in the room like that. 

Octavia: *sly emoji* I’m getting closer to winning this bet every day.

Bellamy: Honestly, you really are.

Bellamy fell onto the couch in the living room and put his hands over his face as images of Clarke drowning in his sweats danced across his eyelids.

…

Saturday was the only day they had off of work together this week, so even though the morning was a minor disaster, Bellamy wasn’t about to give up. 

Clarke eventually came out of her room, this time wearing a flowery sundress. 

“Hey, Clarke. You look really nice. Going somewhere?” he asked.

She grinned, “Thanks and nope. Just realized I’ve pretty much been only wearing pajamas for three days and wanted to mix it up. Plus, I bought this dress and almost never have an opportunity to wear it.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“It’s too sheer to wear if it’s sunny out and the slip I ordered to go under it has been backordered so many times that I doubt it will ever get here,” she said sadly, as she crossed in front of the large kitchen windows to get to the pantry.

When she did that, the light from behind her rendered her dress nearly translucent, and Bellamy could see even more of her body than he could this morning.

He coughed and diverting his eyes said, “I see what you mean.”

Clarke blushed, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, flash you. I’ll just close the blinds to let in less sunlight.”

As she lifted onto her toes to close the blinds, she was once again shrouded in golden light.

Bellamy’s breath hitched and in a second, he was over with her at the window. He softly placed a hand on her waist and heard her sharp inhale, then said, “Why don’t you stand in that shaded part of the kitchen while I get these?”

She nodded and took a step to the side, her dress becoming more opaque while remaining remarkably insubstantial. 

As he closed the blinds, she walked over to the tv, asking over her shoulder, “Do you want to watch some weird documentary today?”

He grinned and replied, “When do I not?”

Bellamy soon followed after her and found Clarke stretched out on the couch. He lifted her feet and sat on the couch before placing her feet on his lap. She had selected a documentary on dolls and as they watched, Bellamy traced light patterns with his fingers over Clarke’s calves. 

When the narrator began discussing how the dolls’ dresses were made, Clarke said, “I feel like more effort was put into making these doll dresses than mine. All those petticoats and the dress still falls perfectly around the doll, whereas I can’t even wear underwear with mine without the dress attaching itself to them through static and making me look like an idiot.”

Bellamy smirked, “I know.”

Clarke’s head turned slowly toward him, “What do you mean, ‘you know’?” 

As much as he tried to get rid of the smirk, he couldn’t and finally he just said, “I know you can’t wear underwear with that dress because I know you’re not wearing it now.”

Clarke gasped, “Bellamy Blake!” and lunged at him, smacking his chest.

He laughed and said, “I’m sorry! I tried to be gentlemanly, but you just would not get out of the sunlight and, frankly, it was distracting.”

Clarke blushed furiously and pulled her legs and arms in to surround herself. Bellamy slowly slid toward her and grabbed her hands. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I should be embarrassed. I’m feeling very lecherous right now,” Bellamy smiled at her. 

That made Clarke laugh before she said, “You feel lecherous for looking at the basically naked girl traipsing around your own kitchen? That’s just called having eyes, Bell.”

Bellamy chuckled and said, “Well, it’s a pretty good day to have eyes,” before pulling her closer, her legs draped over his lap and her head falling onto his shoulder. 

…

They hardly saw each other again for the next four days between their work schedules. 

It was Thursday night when Bellamy was reading in his bedroom and heard Clarke yell, “Bellamy! Come quick!”

He immediately grabbed the baseball bat that rests against his nightstand and ran into her room. But when he saw Clarke, he dropped the bat and had a moment of stunned silence. 

She was standing in front of her full-length mirror, only wearing lacey black lingerie and heels that made her almost as tall as Bellamy. It took Bellamy a minute to notice that she was holding two dresses in her hands.

She said, “I’m going out with Raven and Octavia tonight and I can’t decide what to wear.”

Bellamy, exasperated, responded, “Jesus, Clarke, I thought there was an emergency!”

“There is! Green or blue?”

She put on the blue dress first and Bellamy felt a familiar tug in his gut. The way the fabric slid over her skin… in that moment, he’d die to be that dress.

“That’s the dress. I can’t imagine anything could look better than that.”

Clarke lit up and did a twirl, eliciting a laugh from Bellamy. 

“Don’t go getting a big head now, Griffin,” he said before leaving her room.

He heard her yell, “Thanks, Bellamy!” after him, and he had to lean against the wall in the hallway to collect himself.

This bet with Octavia was turning into torture, especially since Clarke seemed less and less concerned with him seeing her in various states of undress. The more he fell in love with her, the further he fell into the friendzone. Which is not a horrible place to be, he might add. He gets immense happiness from his friendship with Clarke, but the semi-regular nudity and the being in love with her thing adds some emotional complications that he’s not super fond of.

Bellamy made his way to the living room, wanting to see Clarke before she left. She came out fairly quickly and told him she wouldn’t be out too late before running out the door. 

He decided to call Miller. He’d know what to do about this whole situation, right?

“Hi, Bellamy,” Miller said as he picked up the phone, a little more lively than usual.

“Hey, Miller. I have a question for you. If Clarke’s always walking around in her underwear, does that mean she’s trying to seduce me or I’m in the friendzone?”

Miller sighed. “Bellamy, you know I only date boys.”

“Yes, but you know Clarke. What do you think it means?”

“For argument’s sake, you also know Clarke and therefore should be able to figure this out on your own. But I know you kind of suck at this, so I’ll help. Is the nudity a new thing or has she done it the entire time you’ve lived together?”

“A little bit new. Like she’s had breakfast in underwear and a tshirt before, but now it’s like full-on lingerie.”

“Maybe she just wants to feel pretty and your drooling makes her feel hot.”

Bellamy sighed, “Maybe.”

“But everyone who has seen you and Clarke together knows you’re in love, so I’d bet she’s trying to seduce you.”

“Miller, are you just saying this to get me off the phone or do you really mean it?”

“Both. Just fucking tell her how you feel already so you can stop calling me just to whine about it.”

Bellamy smiled, “I’ll see what I can do. Thanks, Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to you later.”

Bellamy decided to read until Clarke got home to make sure she got to bed alright. Going out with Octavia and Raven can get a little rough. 

After about two hours, he heard someone singing the Rocky theme song out the window and smiled to himself. That’s totally a thing Octavia would do while drunk.

Not long after that, Clarke stumbled into the apartment. When she saw him on the couch, she stopped and smiled.

“Hey. Have a good time?” he asked.

She just nodded and began walking toward him. She looked so happy that it made him smile in response. When she finally reached him, she lightly grabbed his book and he surrendered it to her, after which she laid it on the coffee table.

“What’re you doing, Clarke?” Bellamy asked, thinking she must be pretty drunk.

She giggled and slid onto his lap, the hem of her dress pushing up dangerously high. 

Bellamy’s mind began to yell at him. ‘She’s seducing you! Can you believe it, you lucky bastard? She’s seducing you!’

But Bellamy didn’t want her to only want him when she’s drunk and probably feeling lonely or something.

“Clarke…” he warned.

She shushed him and trailed her thumb along his jaw.

Bellamy was just trying to figure out how far he should let this go, when suddenly, Clarke was kissing him and he was kissing her back. In her slight drunkenness, she moved quickly and aggressively, and before Bellamy knew it, she began to lift the hem of his shirt. 

That’s when he stopped her.

“Clarke, you’re drunk. We can’t do this.”

Clarke sat back on his lap and said, “I’m not that drunk,” with a pout. But quickly, she was yawning and said, “Maybe just a little sleepy.”

Bellamy smiled at just how adorable drunken Clarke was. “You’re cute. But I really think you need to go to bed.”

“But I wanted to go to bed with you.”

“Would sleeping in my bed really make you feel that much better?” he asked.

“You know that’s not what I meant. But, yeah, I do want to sleep in your bed too,” she sighed.

At that, Bellamy grinned so hard it hurt. She didn’t just want sex from him. Even in her drunken state, she wanted him, and all of him.

“Okay, let’s go,” he scooped her up and carried her into his bedroom. 

In his bedroom, he placed her softly on the bed. Pulling away he quickly found one of his tshirts that would be big enough to fit her like a dress. He told her to put it on, then went to fetch advil.

When he came back, she was wearing the shirt and her blue dress and lacy bra were hung on his desk chair. 

He handed Clarke the advil and water before saying, “God, you like nice in my clothes.” 

“I look better out of them.”

Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh. “I know. Another time. Take the advil, drink some water.”

She did and then slid under the covers. “You coming?” she asked.

Bellamy took off his shirt and got into bed next to her. 

“God, do you have to look like that?” she whined. “You’re such a tease.”

He laughed as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. “Go to sleep, Clarke.”

She cuddled closer and mumbled, “So bossy” against the skin of his chest. 

…

When Bellamy woke up, Clarke was gone. But her side of the bed was still warm, so he got out of bed to try and find her. 

The front door was cracked and as he got closer, he could hear Clarke talking on the phone. Her back was to the door, so he opened it further and leaned against the doorframe.

He heard her say, “The gentlemanly thing to do would be to do what I wanted and fuck me,” and it took everything he had to stifle that laugh.

What he assumed was Raven’s voice on the phone was unintelligible to him, but soon Clarke was speaking again.

“I know. I’m just feeling very embarrassed. Maybe it would’ve been better if I had just said something instead of just acting like a horny teenager.”

Bellamy couldn’t help himself. “And what would you have said?”

Clarke whipped toward his voice, and when she saw him leaning against the doorframe, her jaw dropped. Quickly she said into the phone, “Raven, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“So, am I wearing the only shirt you own?”

Bellamy couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over his face. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“So are you. You could probably sell some of your books for clothes money if you’re really that strapped.”

Bellamy grabbed Clarke’s hands before they’re frantic waving took an eye out. “Clarke, just tell me.”

Clarke looked down and played with his hands for a bit before saying, “I don’t know why I have to say it; you obviously already know.”

“Well, maybe I just want to be sure. Don’t be stubborn.”

“Fine, I love you, okay? Happy now?” she said, mildly exasperated. 

Bellamy couldn’t stop himself from kissing her before saying, “I love you too,” against her mouth. 

She pulled back to say, “Can I ask you something?” and Bellamy nodded, but he didn’t want to relinquish contact. He moved to kiss her neck, eliciting a giggle from Clarke.

“Was that all I needed to do? If I had told you I love you weeks ago, you would’ve been equally excited about it?”

“For sure.”

“So you just wanted to see how much of an idiot I could make of myself?”

Bellamy smiled against her neck. He supposed it may look that way now. “Not quite. I had a bet going with Octavia that you would tell me you love me before I told you.”

Clarke gasped and smacked his shoulder. “Seriously? And that’s why she told me to prance around in my underwear. And that’s why you haven’t worn a shirt in days! God, I hate you guys.”

All Bellamy could do was smile. “Yeah, but maybe you want to continue this inside? There are beds there.”

She smirked, “Oh, so you don’t want to put on a show for all of our neighbors? I’m sure they had bets going as well.”

Bellamy swooped her up in his arms, bridal-style, and Clarke squealed. “Is this going to become a regular thing?”

“You bet your ass it is.”

…

Bellamy: You owe me fifty bucks.

Octavia: Seriously??? Clarke is weak.

Bellamy: Thanks for telling her to walk around in her underwear all week. That was nice. Not as nice as now but…

Octavia: If I don’t tell you about my sex life will you stop talking about yours?

**Author's Note:**

> I know people asked for this like months ago... but I suck and applying to law school sucks so I just got around to it. I changed up the dialogue a bit so it wouldn't be like reading the same thing and added a scene just because I felt like it. Hopefully you liked it and the bet itself wasn't overly confusing!
> 
> [Clarke's POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7955536)


End file.
